“He’ll understand the situation, believe me.” She laughs. “And besides, Archie’s ‘freak out’ card is already filled up with all of my shit.”
I grin. “Oh you mean your shit like getting knocked up by his new star quarterback?”
It’s a lot more than that, and I know it. London and Holden Cade, who she poached from the Rattlesnakes barely two months ago have a much more interwoven story than just her “getting knocked up.”
I just like giving my best friend shit like this.
She rolls her eyes, her cheeks going red before she looks down at her still totally non-showing belly.
“How’re you feeling, by the way?”
“Good,” she says with this broad, engulfing sort of smile I’ve never quite seen on her before. “I’m feeling really good.”
She should be. The girl’s just managed to find her soulmate - someone who fits her like no other guy I could possible imagine.
She shrugs. “Plus my dad isn’t threatening to blast my fiancé with a shotgun anymore, so there’s that.”
I laugh, raising my glass. “Gonna miss you, Texas.”
London snorts a laugh herself before her face falls again.
“I seriously can’t believe you’re moving.”
“Same,” I mutter.
“And I can’t believe you’re going to be working with Landon.”
I groan again. “Yeah, no shit.”
She eyes me with a prying look.
“You know, you never did come clean with me about what happened with you two. I know something went down the night he took me out for that job offer dinner.”
I groan exasperatedly. “No, I did tell you. We got drunk, we stayed up super late, and we fell asleep on his balcony.”
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re keeping something from me.”
“I’m really not!” I put the wine down and spread my arms wide.
Again though, lying to my friend hurts. But even when it happened, I couldn’t tell her that I’d slept with the head of the board of our rival team. I can’t tell her about the deep discussions on the meaning of life and the universe - the type of deep discussions you can only have at five in the morning with a lukewarm bottle of champagne in your hand and the sun cresting over the city skyline.
I can’t tell her about the part where I threw every rational thought away and gave in to the need for him.
This time though, she seems satisfied with my answer, which only hurts worse.
“Well, on the bright side, at least he’s cute.”
I roll my eyes. “Do not call him that.”
“Oh, please. I might kind of buy that you didn’t totally have sex with him that night, but do not even pretend to disagree that Landon Reece is a good looking guy.”
“He’s an arrogant asshole,” I mutter.
“Arrogant assholes have an obnoxious way of being pleasing to the eyes.”
“Believe me, he’s just the first part.”
“Well you seemed awfully chummy with him before, considering you didn’t sleep with him.”
“Yeah, well that was before I really got to meet him. Because trust me, he’s a douchebag, and he’s acting like it’s my fault that a guy I’ve never met before is giving me half his team.”
London makes a face. “I’d be pissed too, I guess. I mean, if I were him and found out a stranger was getting half of what I’d assumed was mine.”
“Well, sure, but why the hell is he taking it out on me?”
“Male PMS?”
I snort.
“Look, I’ve only got one night here before I have to head back to Denver. Can we go out tonight?”
London arches a brow at me. “Uh, pregnant, remember?”
I down the last of my wine and grimace before I shoot her a look. “Dancing is good for babies.”
“Says?”
“The internet. I read it.”
She laughs. “Oh, well then.”
“And I’ll buy you all the most expensive, extravagant, ridiculous mocktails you want.” I give her a pleading look. “Please. I’m moving away from my best friend to get locked up in the castle with the evil beast. Let me have this.”
London grins. “Are you comparing you going to work with Landon in Denver to Beauty and the Beast?”
“Yes.”
She gives me one of her famous knowing looks.
“You do remember how that one ends, right?”
“Oh shut up.”
Chapter Seven
Serena
I groan as I gratefully sink into the couch in the dark of my living room. I let my head loll back as I kick my heels off and put them up on my coffee table. My TV remote and a few magazines go scattering, but I merely wave a hand at them dismissively as I close my eyes and take a deep breath.